


Somewhere With You

by orphan_account



Category: Glee
Genre: Deaf, Deaf Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-07-08 16:38:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15934328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Kurt Hummel isn’t in a good place. His parents couldn’t scrape up the money to send him to Dalton. That means he’s stuck with Karofsky and all of his meathead friends. Fun.Kurt wants to be happy. He was wants to stop feeling sorry for himself, and let Glee Club and his friends bring him happiness. But he knows that’s not as easy as it sounds.Then, the kind, sweet, gorgeous, socially awkward, Deaf, glorious Blaine Anderson walks into his life in off-brand Nikes.





	1. The New Kid

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is something I’ve been wanting to write for a while, and I’m pretty excited about it. Please note: some of the events in this story occur at different times in Glee-they’re all from season 2, though, so I just mashed them all up.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Feedback/comments/whatever are appreciated... :)
> 
> <3

“So then I told Tina to piss off, and after that I felt really bad, but I-are you even listening, Kurt?”

Kurt, who was wheeling Artie up the ramp at the back entrance of McKinley, bit his lip. “Sorry. Gotta admit I tuned out when you got to the part about all the Asian foods she made you try.”

Artie sighed. “I’m pretty much over her, though. Plus, Britanny seems pretty into me.”

”Wait, really?”

”Yeah. See you in chem.” Artie wheeled away.

”I want details!” Kurt shouted after him.

 

Kurt had always loved the first day of school. He loved planning his outfit, seeing who all was in his classes, and this year, seeing his friends again. 

In truth, he had gotten a little depressed this summer. He had gotten lonely, which brought back memories of when he had zero friends. His father was always working at the shop, and he had pretty much given up on Kurt helping out, because while his son could design an outfit or decorate a room, he couldn’t even change a car’s oil. Rachel was always busy with God-knows-what, and Mercedes was at a Jesus camp in Tennessee with her church’s youth group. So that left Kurt home alone a lot with nobody to talk to. 

So this year, he was excited to get back to school. Even if it mean seeing Karofsky and his cronies on a daily basis. Immersing himself back into the world would make him happier. 

The first half of the day flew by. Kurt had friends in all of his classes so far. His teachers all seemed pretty good, too. Except for Mr. Miller, who was just really weird. 

At lunch, he had sat with Tina, Rachel, and Mercedes. Santana and Brittany were busy working on their tryouts for cheer. Kurt had always thought it was weird that Sue made cheerleaders that had been on the team the previous year try out the next year. She probably wanted to make sure they were still pretty and in top shape. Kurt was trying to toss tater tots into Mercedes’ mouth, and Rachel was talking nonstop about her feelings for Finn. After a while, she stopped to at least eat some of her lunch. “What about you guys? How were your summers? And love lives?”

Tina talked a little bit about Artie and Mike. Kurt thought it was stupid of her to break up with Artie. What was wrong with him? But he supposed Mike was nice, too. 

“What about you, Kurt? Any cute guys?” Rachel winked, her mascara glopping together. “Ugh! I hate this stuff!”

Kurt rolled his eyes and threw another tot. “You know I would’ve told you already if there was anyone. Plus, I have no chance at a relationship.”

”Boo, you’re gonna find someone!” Mercedes said.

“Well, it’s hard when you’re the only gay guy in your whole school.”

”Someone will come along,” Rachel reassured him. “And I think you’ve got more options than you think. I read the news this morning when I was doing my moisturizing routine, and there was this article that said one in every ten people is gay.”

”Okay, there is no way that is true, Rach. Maybe one in every twenty or thirty or something.”

Rachel shrugged, taking a bite of her salad. “Could be.” 

 

After lunch, Kurt had art class. It was the one class he didn’t have friends in. Oh well. At least the class itself was fun. And maybe he did have friends in there, they just hadn’t recognized they shared the class with Kurt when he had posted a picture of his schedule on Facebook.

He had to help Mercedes get to Chemistry, which he had already had and knew the way, so he was late to art. 

The art room looked different than it had last year. The tables were new, and stools replaced the old chairs. Posters of different styles of art decorated the room. 

“Oh, hi Kurt!” The teacher, Mrs. Dasey, greeted him. She was a chipper young lady with dark skin and untamed hair she never tied up. Kurt had had her when he had taken art last year, after Principal Figgins had cut Home Ec from the school’s elective programs. 

“Hi, Mrs. Dasey,” Kurt smiled. She was his favorite teacher. Well, aside from Mr. Schue, that is. 

“You can sit wherever you’d like,” she said.

Kurt nodded and scanned the room. The only person he knew was Quinn, but he wouldn’t dare sit with the Cheerios. He gave her a quick wave and settled for the empty table in the back of the room. 

Mrs. Dacey told them to draw a creature the students felt represented themselves. “It’s my way of getting to know everybody,” she had explained, her dark curls bobbing as she talked. 

Kurt drew a yellow canary, because he liked to sing. Then he drew a cage around the bird. No. That was too depressing. He added a key in its beak. There. While he colored in his drawing, he thought about what Rachel had said at lunch about 1/10th of the population being gay. He doubted it. If that was true, there was a good chance there was someone else in this class that was gay- it had 20 people in it. Who would it be, though? 

Kurt smiled. This was going to be a fun game.

The cheerleaders were all straight as rulers, so he skipped them. His glance moved to the next table, where Luna Dawson, Kerrie Yin, and Heather Wouke sat. Luna might be lesbian. With that hair. Wait-she had a boyfriend. Probably not.

When he had gotten through the class without success, he noticed one boy he hadn’t seen before. He sat by himself, sketching intently. Kurt noticed the boy hadn’t looked up once. Who was this kid? He must be new. Kurt knew who everyone was. His eyes traveled to the book bag under the boy’s table. A folder was sticking out, labeled  _Blaine Anderson._  

Blaine(at least, Kurt assumed his name was Blaine) was wearing red susupenders and a plain white shirt. It was plain in the back, at least. Kurt wished he could pull off suspenders. Blaine’s black hair was coated with gel. 

Kurt tried to see what he was drawing, but couldn’t quite make it out. Should he find some excuse to walk by Blaine? No, that was way too stalker-ish. Why was he so intrigued by this boy?

 


	2. Lasagna

Mrs. Dasey smiled as Kurt walked out of the room. “Kurt! Oh, it broke my heart to see you sitting all alone! Why don’t you sit with Luna and her friends tomorrow? They’re very nice.”

“I‘m sure they are, but I like sitting by myself, I guess,” Kurt told her. It was true, he did like sitting by himself. It gave him time to think about the day. Besides, he didn’t need friends. He had the glee club now. 

“Alright. If you say so. Have a nice night, Kurt.”

”You too.”

 

When Kurt got home, he found his father setting the table. That was weird. Burt worked at the shop until five most nights. He ran up and hugged him. 

“Dad! What are you doing home so early?”

Burt grinned. “Well, I couldn’t miss the details of your first day. I‘m having dinner with Carol tonight, so I thought I’d take a half day so I could be here when you got home.”

”You are the best,” Kurt said, as he opened the pantry door. He was so glad he had a dad like Burt. He was really chill, and even though their interests weren’t all the same, he and Kurt were very close. Kurt had heard people at school complain about how “unfair” or “mean” their parents were, but he had never really thought that of his father. He was grateful that he could talk to him about just about anything.

”Ah, nope.” Burt stuck his hand out. “I’m cooking.”

“What’s that, your personal stop sign?” Kurt teased, motioning at Burt’s hand. Burt rolled his eyes. 

“Of course, kid. Aren’t you going to ask what’s for lunch? Dinner? Whatever it is?”

”Oh, well, excuse me. What’s for lunch-dinner-whatever-it-is, Dad?”

Burt opened the oven door, and the smell of cheese wafted out. “Frozen pizza!” 

Kurt groaned. “Yesterday you promised we would have something healthy for dinner today!” The two had eaten a whole bag of potato chips as he had forced Burt to watch reruns of America’s Next Top Model. 

“But it’s the pepperoni kind! And our Walmart  _never_ has the pepperoni kind!”

“And that stuff’s loaded with junk.” Kurt pulled a bag of lettuce out of the refrigerator, dumping it into two bowls. “We’ll at least have salads.”

”As you say. But the pizza’s better.”

 

That night, Kurt lay awake in bed. He thought about what Mrs. Dacey had said. Why did she suggest he sit with Luna and her friends when Blaine was all alone too? And after all, they were the only two boys in the class. Did she just forget? Probably not. Blaine sat right in front of her. Well, after all, he was new. That was probably it. He was overthinking this anyways.

But what if Mrs. Dacey deliberately didn’t want Kurt to sit with Blaine? Was there a reason? Did this kid have some kind of problems or something? 

He decided he would ask the next day.

 

And he did.

“Mrs. Dacey?” Kurt had waited until everyone left the classroom to talk to the teacher. She had on a purple dress that went down to her knees and large hoop earrings, and was currently writing something on the blackboard in the back of the classroom.

She turned around and nodded. 

”Um... so, you know Blaine?”

Mrs. Dacey’s penciled-in brow furrowed. “Blaine?”

Kurt nodded. “Anderson.”

The teacher paused to think for a second. “How do you know him?” 

“I don’t. I-I was just wondering if I should try to talk to him. I mean, he’s new, I assume, and I’d like to be nice to him if that’s the case. I didn’t see anyone talk to him. The only reason I know his name is cause he had out a folder, and it was on there.”

She pursed her lips. “Kurt, he’s Deaf.”

Kurt’s lips formed an O-shape. So she _did_ deliberately not mention Blaine yesterday. “Oh... I- but how is he taking the rest of his classes?”

Mrs. Dacey shrugged. “He must take them online in the library. They started a program where you can do that just this year.”

“Really?” 

“Mm hm. You wanna fold some papers with me?”

Kurt smiled. “Sorry. I would, but I have Glee Club Tuesdays.”

”Oh, right! Well, have fun with that.”

But Kurt didn’t leave. He subconsciously asked,”Do you know anything else about Blaine?”

”Glee club.” 

“Right, glee club.” 

He ran out the door, entered the choir room, and sat through one of Mr. Shue’s speeches, but his mind was only on the dark-haired boy. 

“Kurt?” 

Kurt looked up. Mercedes was waving a hand in front of his face.

”’Cedes, ‘cedes! What?”

”You zoned out! And you were quiet at lunch, too! What is it?” she asked.

”It’s just- I’ll explain after.”

Mercedes rolled her eyes way back into her head. “Well, I think the rest of glee club is just going to consist of Rachel arguing with Mr. Schue. Tell me!”

So Kurt told her about Blaine, and his folder, and the immense amount of gel in his hair, and Mrs. Dacey, and his embarrassing conversation with Mrs. Dacey.

”You have a crush,” Mercedes teased, dragging out the  _sh_. 

“I do not! Come on, I haven’t even seen his face! I mean, it’s not that appearances matter, but how can you have a crush on someone that you don’t even know what they look like!”

”You seem like the kind of person to. And besides, that got you all riled up!”

“I am not riled up,” Kurt said as smoothly as he could possibly muster. “I am as cool as a cucumber.”

Mercedes raised an eyebrow. “You’re about as cool as a steaming loaf of lasagna.”

They both burst out laughing. “Lasagna comes in loaves?” Kurt choked out in between laughs.

”Of course it does, Kurt.”

”Sure.”

 

“What’s all this fuss about, ladies?” Santana asked, sliding over to where Kurt and Mercedes were sitting. 

“Oh, nothing,” Kurt said, dramatically batting his eyelashes and crossing his legs, tilting his head to look up. 

“Well Kurt here has a new bo-“ Mercedes was interrupted as Kurt’s hand flew to cover her mouth. 

“needs a new best friend,” he finished bitterly, glaring at a giggling Mercedes.

Santana’s own mouth dropped open. “Oh. My gosh. I need deets. You might be the only flaming homosexual at McKinley, but I knew there was at least one closeted gay.”

”One tenth,” Mercedes mouthed to Kurt.

Thankfully, they were interrupted by Mr. Schue clapping his hands together.

”Alright. Is everybody ready for their first assignment of the year?” 

Everyone cheered. Mr. Schue took a bow and began to write on the whiteboard. _Individualism_ , he scrawled. 

“You see people at school everyday, when they’re with their friends and best friends and enemies and girlfriends and boyfriends. They act differently around different people, correct?” Everyone around the rooms nodded. “But who are you as a person without everybody around? Who are you as an individual?”

”For, this week’s assignment, I want you to think about that. Then, find a song that expresses your individualism and be prepared to sing it next week without a partner. Just you.”

Brittany raised a badly manicured hand. “Can I have a partner if it’s Lord Tubbington?”

”I don’t know if cats are allowed at school, Brittany. Any other questions?”

Silence.

”Okay, you’re free, to go, then, everyone!”

Rachel came sprightly hopping up to Kurt and Mercedes as they walked out of the school.

“Do you have any idea what song you’re going to use? I’m excited about this week’s lesson. You know, I already feel like a new person with my bangs!”

”Kurt’s probably going to sing about his newfound-“

”Mercedes!”

Rachel was too busy blabbering on about her song choices to notice.

“I’d better get home,” Mercedes said and pulled them into a group hug. “Love you guys,” she said, kissing their cheeks. 

“Love ya too, ya big meaty loaf of lasagna,” Kurt whispered in her ear in a raunchy voice.

 

As he walked home, Kurt got tears in his eyes as he thought about his friendship with Mercedes. And Rachel, too. He had been so unhappy before he met them. 

He couldn’t help but think that that was must how Blaine feel, not knowing anyone at McKinley. Kurt wanted to help that kid, or at least be friendly to him. He just wasn’t sure how. 

 


	3. Moths

Kurt hid behind the door to the art room. He was going to sit with Blaine today. He was going to  _talk_ to Blaine today. 

Kurt had checked out a book on ASL from the library yesterday and spent the whole night scouring it and the internet. He had memorized all of the phrases he could possibly use introducing himself to Blaine instead of memorizing his Spanish vocabulary for the test today. He had learned how to fingerspell, using letters of the ASL alphabet to spell out words.

What if Blaine didn’t even sign? Kurt would look like such an idiot. Or what if he screwed up the signs and accidentally said  _Hello you shitcake_ or something without knowing it? 

Okay, he was just going to try this. And if it didn’t work, he would never have to talk to Blaine again. 

Kurt peeked around the corner. Sure enough, he saw gelled black hair in the back of the classroom. Kurt’s palms were sweaty. God, he was so pathetic.

He took a deep breath and walked into the classroom. He was overthinking this. Kurt made his way to the back of the classroom and sat. Right across from Blaine. 

Blaine looked up, and it was the first time Kurt had seen his face. 

Blaine was gorgeous. Like, movie-star gorgeous. He had deep hazel eyes, and dark, messy eyebrows that framed them. His full lips were the perfect shade of pink. And don’t even get Kurt started on his eyelashes. He was handsome in a different way then those stupid models that all looked the same, and Kurt had seen so many of them that they weren’t even hot anymore. Blaine had different features. In truth, he was probably the most attractive guy Kurt had ever laid eyes on.

Oh, God. Did Kurt stare too long? Probably. He quickly gave a  _I hope you don’t mind I’m sitting here_ smile.

Blaine’s face froze for a second. Shoot. Kurt probably looked like some kind of sexual predator or something. 

Okay, he did not look like a sexual predator. Kurt looked down at his matching plaid outfit. No way. He probably just seemed  really weird. Or maybe Blaine was just skeptical of why Kurt had just randomly plopped his ass down on the stool in front of him. Kurt sighed. He could move back to where he was sitting before. He would find another way to get to know the boy.

Then Blaine smiled back. 

Kurt had butterflies in his stomach. Not butterflies, but big, angry moths all fighting each other for the best spot on the porch light. That was more like it.

And it must have been the moths, because Kurt did the stupidest thing one could even think of doing at that moment. He waved. 

But Blaine, still smiling, waved back. 

He waved back. He waved back. Kurt was probably grinning like a lunatic. He was perfect for Kurt.

Kurt considered signing to him, but decided against it. He might look like a total creep if Blaine knew that he knew Blaine was Deaf. So he just pulled out his paper with the canary on it. The drawing was kind of weird, with the cage and all, and he didn’t want Blaine to see it, so he found himself doodling on the back. 

 

Mercedes raised an eyebrow. “And you call that major progress?”

She and Kurt were at the Lima Bean, “studying chemistry”. They had headed straight for the coffee shop once school ended.

“It is  _so_ major progress. It’s so major progress that all other major progresses are sad.” Kurt took a sip of his Grande Nonfat Mocha, drumming his fingers on the table. 

”Kurt, why are you so worked up over this kid?”

”Look, I just... He’s been here three days. Not a single person has tried to communicate with him, and that just shows you that this is a crappy world. People aren’t nice anymore.”

”Boo, of course people are nice. Your art class is just full of bitchy cheerleaders. I’m sure someone’s at least tried to talk to him in another class.”

”I don’t know if he has many other classes with, you know, people. Mrs. Dacey was saying she suspected he was taking  online classes in the school library.”

Mercedes took a sip of her latte. “Ow! Hot!” She spit it back out. “Ew. But honey, you don’t know if he wants you to talk to him. I mean, why is he at a public school to take his classes online? His parents probably made him. Just- it’s nice of you to take an interest in him, but make sure he’s okay with it.”

”I know, ‘Cedes. I know. And I will.”

”And tell me,” Mercedes grinned. “You saw what he looked like, right? Is he hot? Cute? Nowhere near? Deets, please.”

”In fact...” 

Kurt told Mercedes every detail of Blaine he could remember-and that was a lot of details. When he was done, she had a pretty good picture in her head of what he looked like. 

“Boy, you’re obsessed!”

”Am not!”

”You're as obsessed as a big meaty loaf of lasagna!” 

“Not this again!” 

Mercedes sighed. “We need to have a girls night and come up with a plan for you to talk to Blaine. We can watch rom-coms, and paint our nails and remove your polish, and do karaoke, and eat more calories than Aunt Debbie did her entire life.”

Kurt gasped. “Yes! We haven’t done one of those in so long!”

”Okay, Friday?”

”Friday.”

 

Burt looked at the books scattered around Kurt. His son was sprawled out on the floor, flipping through a one of the new ones he had picked up at the library on his way home from the Lima Bean. “Sign language? Is that for a project or somethin’?”

“No,” Kurt responded curtly.

Burt tapped his foot. “Well then, are you gonna tell your father why you’re lookin’ at sign language?”

”Well, there’s this Deaf kid in my art class.”

”Ah, So, there’s a boy.”

”There’s not a boy! Well, there is a boy. I just feel bad for him. He has no friends.”

Burt didn’t look too convinced. “Mm hm.”

”Dad, I’m a good person! It’s not just ‘cause he’s cute!”

”He is cute then?”

”Go away.” 

Burt laughed and left the room, gently closing the door behind him. 

Kurt sighed and ran over to the mirror. Yup. His face was all red. That’s embarrassing. He wondered if he had gotten this flushed when he was talking to Blaine earlier. Probably. He probably smiled really ugly, too. Kurt smiled, looking at his reflection. Ew. That was really gross. 

Wait. He had been wearing a different shirt then. He dug through the laundry basket, producing the plaid shirt, and took off his to put the plaid one on again. He caught himself looking in the mirror. Ew. Again. His skin was so pale. It didn’t even tan, either. He would just skip straight to getting sunburnt. He had no muscle whatever, either. He looked like a fucking 9-year old girl.

Kurt put on the plaid shirt and smiled at the mirror again. Nope. He didn’t look any less ugly. 

 “Dinner!” his father called. 

“Coming!” Kurt headed to the kitchen, to find his father grinning at him proudly. “Look! I made something healthy!” 

On the table sat two bowls of iceberg lettuce swimming in ranch dressing. “Dad, dumping lettuce in bowls and pouring ranch all over it is not healthy.”

 “Who says?”

“I’m cooking tomorrow, Dad.” 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the support! I haven’t written in a while, so getting back into it and having positive feedback means a lot to me :)

Kurt waved a kale chip in Mercedes’ face. “You know you want it. Just think, Mercedes, it’s practically  _calling you_.”

They were at Kurt’s, sprawled out on the couch, wearing pajamas. The closing credits of Breakfast At Tiffany’s rolled on the television before them.

Mercedes wrinkled her nose. “Just because you threw a bunch of kale in the oven and roasted it doesn’t mean that qualifies as chips. I could go for some tots right now, though.” She thought for a minute, and then excitement flashed in her eyes. “I have an idea.”

”Good Lord, Mercedes. The last time you had one of your brilliant ideas, we almost-.”

”Let’s break into the school!”

Kurt’s mouth dropped open. “Break into the school? Why on Earth would we do that?”

”It’s simple, Boo.” Mercedes tucked a hand under her chin. “I want me some tots.”

”Oh, come on. And Mercedes, wouldn’t they have thrown out the leftovers? If there were any after you blazed through them at lunch today.”

”Hey! Girls need their tots. And I know for a fact they keep them on Fridays. They do a teachers social night or something so that they get an award for their staff or something. A lady at my church works at McKinley and she was talking about it a little while ago.”

”Oh, so we just sneak past the teachers and ravage the kitchen in the cafeteria?”

”That’s it!”

Kurt sighed and shook his head. 

“Come on. It’ll give you some bad boy cred.” Mercedes wiggled.

Kurt looked down at his matching pink pajama set. “You know, I don’t think I need any of that, ‘Cedes.”

”We can listen to the teachers gossip.”

Kurt perked up. “I’m in.”

 

They dressed very fashionably. 

“If you’re going to break into school, you do it in style,” Kurt had reprimanded when Mercedes had changed into a sweatshirt. So they had put on black outfits, with matching black studded belts Kurt had found in the back of his closet. 

“We look fabulous,” Kurt said, glancing up in the mirror and drawing on Mercedes’ eyeliner. 

“See? This is already more exciting than watching an Audrey Hepburn movie for the umpteenth time.”

”Looks good!” Kurt chirped. Mercedes swiveled her chair around and looked at her reflection. Kurt had drawn on perfect winged eyeliner and stuck little silver sequins around it. She gasped. 

“How are you so good at that?”

”I have my talents. Are you ready, Freddy?”

“Of course, Freddy.”

They walked out of Kurt’s room, stopping abrupty. Kurt and Mercedes looked at each other. They hadn’t gotten this far. How were they going to get out of the house? 

Kurt peeked into the kitchen. Sure enough, Burt was sitting at the wood kitchen table, reading the sports section of the newspaper. The front door was right behind him. Shoot.

He lowered the paper, squinting up at his son through his reading glasses. “Hey, kid.”

”Um... Hi, Dad. We were just gonna go to bed. G’night.”

Burt’s brow furrowed. He glanced up at the clock on the wall. “At seven?”

”Well, we though we would do night-mani pedis. And gossip and stuff.” He nervously laughed. 

“In _that_?” Burt motioned to Kurt’s elaborate ninja outfit.

”Well, im obviously going to change out of  _that_ , Dad.” He clucked his tongue and walked out.

 

”He’s not too convinced.”

“Yeah. I heard the whole thing.”

”Oh.”

”But, Kurt, I mean, he let you walk off. He knows you’re up to something, but he’s probably glad you are for once. And he trusts you not to do anything stupid.”

”I guess.”

Mercedes walked across the room and shoved open the window. “Here we go!”

”’Cedes! We did not converse about this!”

”What is there to  _converse_? We have to get out somehow.” Mercedes pushed out the window screen and looked down. Then, with great perseverance, she heaved herself over the window.

”Oh my Gaga, Mercedes!” Kurt ran over to the window. Mercedes waved at him from the outside. “Okay here goes.” He threw himself out of the window, much less gracefully. Mercedes was laughing. “That would have been YouTube gold.”

”Too bad you didn’t catch it,” Kurt remarked, getting up and brushing himself off as Mercedes stood on her tiptoes and shut the window.

“‘Cedes! You’re blind as a bat!” Kurt dragged his friend along the sidewalk and up to the school.

Mercedes sighed. “Gurl, you know I ain’t wearin’ contacts. Keepin’ up with this weave is hard enough.”

They crawled through the window in the choir room and walked to the cafeteria. Everything looked so different at night. Nobody roamed the halls, and moonlight shone in through windows, occasionally contrasting with the dark building. 

Kurt felt adrenaline rush through his body. He loved breaking the rules once and a while.

Mercedes seemed to read his mind. “See, aren’t you glad we got wild and came here?”

“Wild, indeed.”

The two entered the cafeteria. “How do we know if the teachers are even in their lounge?”

Mercedes shushed him and put an ear to the wall. She nodded. “Yup. They’re here.”

Mercedes hurdled over the counter to get to the kitchen. Kurt looked around the cafeteria. He walked over to one side of the giant room. “‘Cedes, did you find any?” No answer. She was probably too excited by her tater tots. Muted voices began to come from behind the wall. That had to be the teachers. Kurt leaned against the wall to try to hear the conversation, but he could only hear the occasional word.

“Wife”...

“Key”... “printing room”...

“New”...”Deaf”. 

This caught Kurt’s attention. They had to be talking about Blaine. Scanning the room again, he slipped into the janitor’s closet, hoping he could hear better from there.

The place smelled. It reminded Kurt of the time he had visited family for a week, and he came back and the whole house smelled like socks and sweat. 

He never really thought he’d be in here. The make-out closet. He’d seen lots of people sneak in here at lunch with their boyfriend or girlfriend. Once, Kurt even saw David Karofsky bring _two _girls in. But, let’s be real, who would want to make out with Kurt?__

__Kurt pressed his ear up to the door and cupped his hand around it like they did in spy movies. Well, he’d never actually seen a spy movie, but they did it in Spy Kids before the giant toes started attacking everybody. Who even thought up that plot? And why?_ _

__“Less Spy Kids,” he thought. “More Blaine.”_ _

__A teacher with a raspy voice whom Kurt could only assume was Mr. Lloyd, the outspoken geometry teacher, cleared his voice. Of course he did. Kurt knew for a fact that he probably spit everywhere, like he did daily in Kurt’s 9th grade Geometry class._ _

__“Mm hm. Blaine’s in my Algebra 2 class. Can’t understand a word I say. Dunno why he doesn't just go to that school for the Deaf place.”_ _

__“Oh, yeah, Jim was talking about some retarded kid the other day. Musta been him,” said another teacher who Kurt didn’t recognize._ _

__Kurt wanted to just bust out of that closet and shut those idiotic meatheads up. Blaine was definitely not most retarded because he was Deaf. That wasn’t how it worked. He pressed his head so far into the wall it hurt._ _

__“I hear his family’s loaded. Might want to suck up to him to get some class donations.” Of course. It was just sad what all the teachers wanted once they learned how to pocket donations. Kurt sighed and gave up on listening._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was really short...I wrote it about 3 times until I got something I liked, so it took a while too. Oh wellll


	5. Chapter 5

Blaine looked so lonely. He couldn’t be talking to anyone, really. Kurt decided to man up write him a note. 

This was a bad idea in so many ways. It just screamed “You’re Deaf, but let’s be friends!” But Kurt really didn’t know much sign yet.

Sure, he was practicing every night, but it took time. He barely knew how to sign the alphabet and a few basic phrases by now. If he didn’t know how to say something or accidentally signed the wrong thing in front of Blaine, he would be mortified.

And then there was the fact that Blaine might not even  _know_ ASL. How awkward would it be if Kurt Just meandered up and started incorrectly signing things? 

So he opted for the note, ripping out a little piece of notebook paper.

_Hi, I’m Kurt. From your art class._

That was kind of weird. Plus, Blaine wouldn’t really have anything to say to that if he _did_ respond. Kurt hoped he would. He added to the bottom.

_Are you new here?_

Well, that was kind of desperate. Before Kurt could think about it, he reached under the table and slid the note into Blaine’s backpack. 

 

The next day, Kurt left art to go to the bathroom in case Blaine had written back. That way, Blaine could just stick the note into Kurt’s backpack unnoticed. 

 

As soon as Kurt got home, he dumped the contents of his bag onto the kitchen table. He didn’t see anything, so he went through all of his binders and books. Nope. He checked each pouch. Nope. 

Maybe Blaine would write him the next day.

Burt came home late. “Hey, kid. I got Chinese takeout for dinner. Hey! Don’t you look at me like that. Ethnic food is healthy!”

He put the cartons down on the table, and Kurt turned around to get glasses of water for him and his father. 

“Hey,” Burt called. “What’s that on your back?”

Kurt craned his neck around and saw something pink. Gum? On his new cashmere sweater?” He groaned. “I’ll be back. Get us drinks.” He never understood when people did things like this. Why wouldn’t you just throw your gum away like a normal person? At least it wasn’t in his hair.

Kurt took off the sweater and flipped it around to inspect the damage. But instead, there was a bright pink sticky note stuck to the back of his sweater.

_Gotcha!_

_I’m Blaine._

_Yes. Are you?_

 

Kurt excused himself after dinner to go write back to Blaine. He had been thinking about what to say for all of dinner.

He loved the Post-It note. And just think, he thought Blaine needed Kurt to leave the art room. Kurt was glad he was bold.

He took a yellow Post-It, his favorite color, and wrote.

 

_No_

_Unfortunately_

_Did you move here or something?_

 

Seeing Blaine’s note had given Kurt so much motivation to be able to have an actual conversation with Blaine. He studied ASL all night, practicing fingerspelling and learning new phrases. He wanted to talk to Blaine so, so badly. 

He stuck the note on Blaine as he entered art class the next day, and received one the day after that.

_No,_

_I’ve lived in Westerville my whole life._

_Unfortunately? Is this place really that bad?_

They wrote back and forth a few more times.

_Well, for flaming homosexuals like me._

 

_Understandable. They don’t do anything too bad, do they?_

 

_Borderline. I guess, no, it could be a lot worse. Still sucks, though._

 

_I’ve been there._

 

He’d been there. What was that supposed to mean? Kurt exasperatedly tugged at the lock on his locker. It popped open after three tries. 

Honestly he was just relieved he had practically come out to Blaine, and he didn’t say anything really... detrimental. It was a start, right?

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Blaine about to walk by. He quickly covered up all of the notes he had received from him, which were taped up on the side of his locker in chronological order. Yes, he was a little bit obsessed.

Then, he saw it happen. It all unfolded right in front of him.

Red letterman jackets. Red slushies. Heavy footsteps. 

At first, Kurt cowered. When nothing happened, he looked back. They had passed right by him. That was weird. We’re they going for Jew-Fro instead? Well, good.

But he heard them whisper a “two, three,” and realized what was going on. They flung the drinks at Blaine, who was sent flying into the floor in surprise. Gooey, red ice covered him. 

“Deaf _and_ blind. Helen Keller’d ya,” Kurt heard one of the Neanderthals say.

“Huh. Retard,” another one said.

”Good one,” the third said. How stupid were these guys?

Kurt had been slushied all too many times to count. He didn’t really mind now, since he had friends that would whisk him into the bathroom and practically give him a spa day. But he remembered being so scared the first few times it happened. He had had nobody. He remembered stumbling off, trying to find the bathroom to wash his face, getting shoved around in the bathroom, being late to class, and having to stay in his nasty shirt and sticky hair all day.

Kurt ran up to Blaine. “God, I’m so, so sorry. I can’t believe they did that. I know how awful it is. They have no-“ Kurt stopped  midsentence, remembering Blaine was Deaf. He turned red.

But Blaine was nodding, still looking quite horrified. He squinted, preparing to try to read Kurt’s lips if he talked again. Kurt faced Blaine, talking slowly now. “Come with me.”

Kurt was about to lend his hand out, but figured that was overkill. Instead, he just headed towards the bathroom, motioning for Blaine to follow. 

Blaine looked confused. He pointed to the _Girls_ sign on the door. 

Kurt shrugged. “Cleaner. I’m used to cleaning up here with my girl friends.”

Kurt could tell he didn’t pick up every word, but Blaine seemed to understand. Kurt took his hand this time, trying not to grow warm, and began pulling him to the sinks. Blaine sort of flinched at his touch.

”I’m not going to hurt you,” Kurt simply said. 

Then he picked up the trash can, dumped it into a toilet, and tipped it upside down, placing it near the sink. “Sit.”

Blaine just kind of looked at him. Oh, God. With Kurt’s luck, he probably saw “shit” or something. Kurt sat down on the trash can, got up, and motioned for Blaine to do the same. He got it this time and did. 

Kurt tilted Blaine’s head back. Blaine didn’t resist, but he looked surprised. Kurt reached into his bag, producing the shampoo he liked because it didn’t have Sodium Laurel Sulfate in it, and proceded to wash Blaine’s hair with sink water and the shamooo, dabbing at his clothing with paper towels. Secretly, he was loving running his hands through Blaine’s hair, which was now gel-free. He looked kind of embarrassed, but Kurt was too. He tried not to show it. 

Blaine’s wet hair looked kind of curly. Kurt couldn’t wait to see it dry.

“Change of clothes?” Kurt asked when he had resentfully finished, with his best ‘question’ face. 

Blaine shook his head no.

Kurt nodded. “I will be right back.”

 He ran to his locker as fast as he could, twisting his damn lock three times before he got in. He found a sweatshirt he kept for _extreme_ situations. Running back to the bathroom, he collected his breath before entering.

“Here,” he said as clearly as he could, giving the sweatshirt to Blaine. Blaine nodded a thanks. 

“I’ll get us passes,” Kurt told him, and he raced out of the room again while Blaine went into a stall to change. Once he had stolen two late passes from Mr. Schue, he returned to the bathroom. It seemed kind of empty.

“Blaine?” He called. Then Kurt realized Blaine wouldn’t be able to hear him. 

He checked for feet under the stalls. No Blaine.


End file.
